


Five Stages of Grief.

by ClexaMemori



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClexaMemori/pseuds/ClexaMemori
Summary: "Dying is simple, it all just stops, you're dead. The people around you dying, that's the hard part, because you keep living, knowing that they're gone and you're still here"They say that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Rosita disagrees.





	Five Stages of Grief.

_~One Day After The Fair~_

The day following the fair, spirits remained high and laughter echoed through the air as those that lingered in the kingdom bathed in the afterglow of the successful union of the four communities. Rosita was guilty of being one of those who possessed a seemingly permanent smile as she spoke with Luke about his performance the previous night.

The joyous atmosphere was shattered all too soon however, by a cry of "they're back!" from one of the guards and the crowd erupted into confused discussion of what might have caused for the early return of the Carol's return to the kingdom when she'd been accompanying the group to Hilltop.

Rosita joined the crowd that moved forward as the gates swung open to emit the small group into the community. For a moment, her smile didn't waver as she walked forward to greet her friends, but the moment of relief was short lived when she noticed the expressions that each of them wore on their faces. Each of them looked broken beyond belief, Siddiq was covered in blood, Michonne's face was streaked with tears and Carol evidently still had tears sliding down her cheeks.

Slowing to a halt, Rosita stared at the group in silent, horrified realisation that something bad had happened, the time for questions was not at that moment, despite her urge for information and the worried, chattering of the crowd that surrounded them. Then her eyes locked with Michonne's and a glimmer of something familiar passed across her face for a second before it was gone and she began to approach her.

"Michonne?" she asked, her voice timid sounding, afraid of hearing something that she might not want to hear from the other woman.

"Can we talk?" Michonne asked her "in private"

"What-" she began to ask but Michonne placed a gentle hand upon her arm and took the opportunity to steer her away from the gathered crowd. Rosita didn't know what Michonne might need to speak to her about, but whatever it was, she knew that it couldn't be good.

Michonne led her a good distance away from the concerned crowd, before slowing to a stop in a reasonably secluded area and turning to face her. Before she'd even opened her mouth to explain, she noticed the look upon her friends face and suddenly it all made sense.

"Who-" she began, breaking off to swallow hard at the lump that had formed in her throat "who is it?" she finished, feeling the familiar prickling sensation in her eyes that told her that stubborn tears had sprung up into her eyes, because she'd recognised the look upon Michonne's face. The look that she had fixed upon her now, the look of mingled guilt and pity that came with having to deliver bad news.

"What?"

"Who's dead" she continued, fixing Michonne with a steely glare as if daring her deny it, to evade and deflect the question. To escape the responsibility of having to break the news to her. "I recognise the look, it's the same look I got when my brother died, the same look I got after Abraham... So who is it this time, who is dead?" she demanded, aware that her hands were trembling slightly as she clenched them into fists at her sides.

"Tara"

Rosita paused as the name sank in and her face slackened in surprise and then just as suddenly, her brow furrowed in confusion. She felt sure that there had been some sort of mistake, that Michonne was mistaken or else was lying to her- but even as the thought entered her head, she knew that her friend had no reason to lie to her about such things "what?" she asked, assuming that she'd misheard.

_She hadn't._

"Tara is dead" Michonne repeated, her voice cracking with emotion as she was forced to repeat herself.

Rosita fixed the other woman with a glare "No" she responded, her voice shaking despite how hard she willed herself to control it. "No, she's not" she repeated, her voice firmer than before but still possessing a slight quiver that gave away her emotions.

"Rosita-" Michonne began but before she could continue, Rosita cut her off.

"She's not dead!" she insisted, staring into Michonne's eyes with a hopelessly pleading expression, because she didn't want to believe it, she couldn't believe it. Couldn't accept the information that was being given to her, because if she believed what Michonne was saying then that meant that she'd never again see the one person in the world that always managed to put a smile on her face, even when smiling seemed impossible.

"I'm sorry, but you're wrong" she muttered, turning away from Michonne and stalking away in the direction of the gathered crowd, no doubt in search of more desirable answers, answers that Michonne knew that she wouldn't receive.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I typed this out and then accidentally closed the tab without saving it so I had to retype everything. The first draft was better and I'm not happy with how this turned out but here it is anyways.
> 
> It's actually a lot shorter than the first attempt, so apologies but hoping the next chapter turns out better!


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